


oliver is online

by watergator



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Horror, M/M, Stalking, Uncertain Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-29
Updated: 2019-07-29
Packaged: 2020-07-25 13:27:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20026570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watergator/pseuds/watergator
Summary: dan has a stalker





	oliver is online

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dizzy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dizzy/gifts).

> written for mandy for the phandomgives charity fic <3

_ He’s stuck. Everywhere around him is blanketed in darkness, so thick it clouds each sense and nerve from his body, and he can’t think. It feels like he can’t breathe. Feels as if he can’t move. He tries opening his mouth, but it feels like string has been pulled through his lips, painfully stitching them together, unable to pry them open and scream. _

_ The only thing he can feel in this dark void of nothingness, is the way his heart bangs against his chest. Each quick pace is like a growing rhythm of drums inside of him, where is pounds, over and over and over again. _

_ He can’t breathe in here; his lungs feels tight and his throat has closed off. Air seems like a distant dream now, and it’s all he can crave. _

_ He suddenly feels panicked. Like people are watching him. He’s no longer in the dark, but he’s on a stage. His lips are still sealed shut and his body trembles as he looks out towards the audience. _

_ It’s too dark to see them, but he can make out the silhouettes of each head that sits there, looking at him in each row and seat. _

_ It’s so quiet. So quiet he can hear his own heartbeat loud and fast, that the speakers on the side of the stage pick it up and carries is around the room. _

_ Then is stops. It’s silence, and there’s a door.  _

_ He wants to run. He needs to run but his feet are stuck. Everything inside of him is telling him to escape and to move and to let go, but he can’t. He looks down and his bare feet are stuck to the floor, he can’t even wiggle his toes. _

_ He looks up again, and the audience has gone. He’s left alone, and his heartbeat is no longer echoing off the walls. _

_ It’s quiet again.  _

_ Until there’s a bang on the door. _

_ It stands alone in a sea of dark, tall, brown and old looking, when another slam hits it, and it rattles dangerously. _

_ “They’re trying to get in,” a voice tells him. It’s not his voice though, he thinks. He knows it’s not his voice. _

_ It repeats itself with each bang on the door. _

_ “They’re trying to get in.” _

_ “They’re trying to get in!” _

_ It grows louder and louder with each aggressive slam, bang and crash. _

_ Dan’s heart has since picked up its pace, and he’s sure that if his feet weren’t glued to the floor, he’d probably passed out from the rush of blood that’s filling his body. _

_ He bites his tongue, and he watches the door as it continues to shake as rattle. There’s a squeak and a pop and the sound of nails hitting the floor, and the voice gives a final shout before the door swings open. _

_ “They’re inside!” _

Dan wakes with a jolt. His heart still pounds furiously, feeling the rush of blood in his head as he presses his hand to his chest.

His body is drenched in sweat and his hands shake.

A dream. 

It was just a dream.

He exhales, a shaky breath escapes him, and he looks down. 

Phil sleeps blissfully beside him; his head is turned into the pillow, his mouth hangs open a little and there’s a damp dark patch where drool has escaped him.

Dan’s own mouth feels dry and tacky. He swallows down the unpleasant taste, as he carefully peels back his corner of the duvet and steps out of the bed.

On trembling legs, he makes his way to the kitchen.

It was just a dream, he tells himself as he pours himself a glass of water from the tap. It spills over the edge, but he doesn’t care. He downs it in one gulp, before refilling it and doing the same.

By the time he’s put the cup back in the sink, his bladder is being persistent, and so he trots off to the bathroom, uncaring of every light he switches back on, making sure each hidden corner of their apartment is lit up enough for his brain not to create tricks in the dark.

By the time he’s washing his hands, he feels more awake. His brain is still buzzing and he still feels jittery, and he’s unsure if he’ll even want to go back to sleep if he could.

He goes back to bed anyway, switching the light off and making a dash through the dark to return to safety, where Phil still sleeps, and is unmoving when Dan catapults himself onto the bed and shoves the covers over him, a blanket of security from something that isn’t there.

Phil stirs as the bed dips and creaks but smacks his lips together, rolls over and stays sleeping.

His head is far too loud for the silence that suffocates him, and a childish, selfish part of him wants to wake Phil; jolt him awake so he’ll have someone to talk to.

But he won’t, because he knows as soon as he’s woken his sleeping boyfriend, he’ll just feel silly and won’t be able to tell Phil that he had a nightmare at twenty eight years old, and it’ll all be for nothing.

He does try to sleep, but nothing seems to switch off in his body and feels wide awake.

With a sigh, he decides to get out of bed, not much use staying here anyway, he thinks to himself as he gets up. He pulls a pair of discarded sweatpants off the floor, only realising their Phil’s when they cut off above the ankles and there’s a crinkle of a sweet wrapper in the pocket.

But it doesn’t bother him as he throws a random shirt over his head and heads out the room towards the living room.

He’s quick to turn the lights back on, sighing a little huff of relief in seeing the apartment look totally normal, as if it were already morning. But the big black outside of the windows remind him it’s not, so he heads to his computer and sits himself down.

He wriggles the mouse and the screen comes to life, his skyrim desktop background greets him as he clicks onto spotify and as he’s scrolling, he pushes his earphones that had been left on the desk, deep into each ear.

The sound of Frank Ocean surrounds him, like a lullaby soothing him as he clicks onto a bookmark on his browser. The chat room comes to life. Past messages from the last couple of hours are static on the screen, a few names Dan recognised and a few he doesn’t.

He doesn’t care though. 

He’s already logged in, as he always in when he comes online to be another insomniac in a sea of awake weirdos, he types out his message:

danisnotasleep: what does it mean to have nightmares about being suffocated?

There’s a pause, as he awaits someone to message him back.

Someone he’s spoken to before begins typing before they send off their message back.

sleepyotter: u feel suffocated by life i guess

sleepyotter: what does it mean when ur awake at 3am doing ur term essay after working on it for three days????

Dan chuckles, a laugh coming out of his nose.

He enjoys this. He has a little group of weirdos here. His corner of the internet where he’s not just Daniel Howell, but rather, just another sleepy person that’s logged on to the never ending chat room made for insomniacs across the world.

He doesn’t even care if these people know him really. No one has ever used it against him, he supposes, with his endless stalking of his own tumblr tag, he’s yet to come across anyone claiming to have stayed up with Dan in a chat room as he rambled through the night about nonsense.

And even if they had, they’d never posted about it. 

danisnotasleep: it means u need to maybe get ur life together mate

danisnotasleep: u have a class today?

sleepyotter: yes!!! help me dad!!!

He doesn’t know who sleepyotter is, but he knows then well enough to know they also live in London and that they’re a university student, somewhere around their mid 20’s, fretting about life and the future. Something Dan can relate to deeply. 

danisnotasleep: go to sleep 

sleepyotter: ok :P

danisnotasleep: srsly u’ll die in class tomorrow otherwise

sleepyotter: ik:( if i log out who will u talk to though???

Dan has spent a good enough time on here to spend some nights weirdly alone, three am always manages to be the crossover when half the world sleeps and the other half wakes.

Of course, Dan knows that’s not actually how time and the world works, but he’s okay for now if it means someone else is sleeping tonight.

danisnotasleep: i’ll troll teh forums

There’s a pause, then:

sleepyotter: ugh you make me wanna sleep forever

sleepyotter: goodnight dan! don’t have any more nightmares! :D

danisnotasleep: ok i’ll try

danisnotasleep: night otter 

And then they’re gone. Dan is left in the chat all alone and it leaves a weird feeling in his tummy.

The site has other features: a forum where people talk about dreams and sleep remedies and some scary stuff if people are trying  _ not  _ to sleep, but it’s mostly stuff Dan has seen before, stuff he won’t plague his mind with for tonight.

Frank Ocean’s voice is coming to an end on one song, and Dan is about to maybe exit out and try and go back to sleep, when another person pops up in the chat box.

oliveronline: i just had the strangest dream.

Dan could leave, he is feeling a little tired now, but he’s not that much of a dick. Otter had stayed with him a little, and although Dan doesn’t think he’s ever seen this Oliver guy around here before, he supposes he can maybe entertain him for a little while. Frank starts up again, and Dan can’t find it in him to stop it.

danisnotasleep: is it as bad as having ur lips sewn shut on stage?

danisnotasleep: bc that’s where my brain is at right now

Oliver doesn’t reply for a bit, and Dan doesn’t know if maybe he’s happy or sad. In some ways whenever a new person joins he gets that little seed of anxiety in him that they’re gonna know it’s him from the very obvious choice of username.

But Oliver starts typing again and Dan holds his breath.

oliveronline: phaha lol no that sounds fucked up though

oliveronline: i had a dream i was falling from cliffs

Dan knows the feeling; those horrid dreams where you seem to fall forever, screaming and crying and begging for it to stop, only to wake once you’ve hit the ground and all you can feel is fear and panic.

danisnotasleep: those suck

danisnotasleep: i hear they’re about taking risks in life

He’s spent a good time of his nights awake looking through the dream diary analysis pages that he’s sure are all made up. How can anything possibly mean anything once you’re unconscious?

Still, people enjoy sounding smart in regards to something as strange as dreams, so he supposes he can try.

oliveronline: that’s deep, dude

Dan huffs a small laugh out of his nostrils. He’s truly feeling tired now.

danisnotasleep: sleep is calling me

oliveronline: ur username is wrong then

danisnotasleep: maybe so

He’s bored now. The conversation is dry and he just wants to sleep, whilst this guy seems as wide awake as he was mere moments ago.

oliveronline: nighty night danny! sleep tight! don’t get ur lips sewn shut or fall off any cliffs in ur sleep!

Dan stares at the message, until his eyes burn with exhaustion and he can’t look at the screen no more. He exits out of the tab and pulls his earphones from his ears, Frank being ripped from him as he’s plunged back into the silence of the night.

Once his computer is asleep he heads to the kitchen, grabs himself a granola bar, only because him being awake has his tummy confused, and goes back to bed, uncaring of the crumbs he leaves behind; it’ll be a good motivator to wake up early tomorrow to run the hover around the flat.

Once he’s back in bed, he throws his wrapper onto the bedside and snuggles down under the covers where it’s comforting and warm.

Phil, still sleeping, must sense his presence, because he rolls over, hitching a leg up his hip and an arm thrown across his waist, tucking himself up snuggly against him like he fits.

Dan hums, shutting his eyes and letting his free hand roam to find Phil’s hair. He runs his fingers through his silky black strands, where Phil must be subconsciously enjoying it, as he buries his face as far as he can into Dan’s neck.

He places a kiss there, just a tickle of his lips, and Dan finds himself falling asleep.

*

When Dan wakes the next morning, he still feels tired.

Granola crumbs aren’t enough to magically get him out of bed, he thinks, as each bone in his body feels significantly heavier today.

Sunshine is filtering in through the blinds, and as if god is watching him, it’s shining directly into his eyes.

He lets out a groan as he stretches, legs and arms reaching outwards, and that’s when he notices that Phil is still tucked up beside him.

Unable to resist, Dan crooks his neck and places a kiss on his forehead.

He lingers there for a while, breathing him in, until Phil begins to stir.

“Ew,” Phil grumbles, voice heavy with sleep as he squeezes his arm around Dan.

Dan shifts into his side so he’s facing him, watching those blue eyes slowly begin to open, the fluttering of dark lashes against his skin with each stuttered blink.

“What time is it?” Phil asks, frowning. His bottom lip is puffy and jutted out, and his eyes are small and sleepy.

Dan loves being able to see him like this. He gets to enjoy this forever, maybe.

“Dunno,” Dan tells him. It’s the truth. He can’t be bothered to reach behind him and look at his phone.

He knows that it must only be early because of the sunlight that’s looking through to their room, but he doesn’t need to know.

“Never wanna get up,” Phil mutters as he shuffles forwards and nuzzles his head in Dan’s chest. It makes him aware that he’s wearing Phil’s clothes still from last night.

Neither of them care.

“Then let’s not,” Dan whispers once Phil’s pulled his head up again.

Phil blinks at him, before his face slowly breaks into a grin, his tired eyes smile back at him.

“What?” He says with a laugh.

“Stay in bed with me today,” Dan asks, before leaning in and kissing him hard.

He had a bad night last night. His nightmare still clings to the edges of his memories, slowly beginning to fade, but he still feels that unsettled feeling in his chest, breathing it in.

And all he really wants right now is Phil. Phil is the best at making things feel better, and right now, he wants to feel a lot less shit, and he knows Phil can do that. It’s like he’s got a bloody PhD in accomplishing his own bubble of happiness. 

Phil kisses him back before he’s laughing, opened mouth and pulling away.

“What?” Dan asks, feeling a little breathless.

“Horny bastard,” Phil tells him with a laugh, his eyes crinkled.

“We’re packing today, so get your lazy butt up,” Phil adds, reaching around to give Dan’s ass a quick slap.

Dan doesn’t react, but only pouts.

“No. I’m too tired for holiday packing.”

It’s true. A few weeks away on the Isle of Man will be great. Phil’s parents are away, and whilst they love the familiarity of Kath and Nigel’s sweet little home, they’d decided this year whilst everyone else was away, they’d indulge in a holiday cottage.

In fact, this was the first time they would be seeing it, and after noticing it up for sale on one of the many estate websites Phil loved to browse, it seemed like the perfect getaway home, just a few minutes away from Phil’s parents house.

Something for the two of them. Nothing set in stone, but a small holiday just to find their footing. Their first steps up the property ladder.

“Shush,” Phil says, ripping the covers off their bodies. Phil’s clad in his boxers and it just makes Dan whine with want.

Phil laughs at him as he gets out of bed and starts looking for a towel.

“I had a horrible nightmare last night, you have to be nice to me.”

Dan’s not sure why he said it. Maybe because it’ll perhaps get Phil to come back to bed. But Phil just turns around and frowns at him.

“Yeah?” His voice is gentle and soft and sweet and makes Dan feel guilty.

“No. I’m okay,” he says quickly, finally getting out of bed.

Besides, the nightmare is starting to wash away now in his brain. Only real in the deepest depths of his subconscious.

He catches Phil looking at him still as he leaves the room.

*

Phil helps Dan pack; they only have a few more days until they’re flying over, and Phil has been insistent on making sure everything is ready for when they leave.

They’re meeting the estate agent at the house, so Phil has an entire Pikachu folder dedicated to contact details of the branch and the guy they need to talk to, about three printouts of the map, even after Dan had laughed at him and told him that google was a thing that existed.

(And Phil had very cleverly pointed out that accessible wifi might not be a thing up by the cliffs, but Dan had still called him stupid)

Pizza boxes are left on the coffee table, and Dan knows he has to get up and put them away, mainly because the barbeque sauce lid is starting to gross him out with the way it’s sliding down the now soggy cardboard - but he really doesn’t want to move, not when Phil has settled himself across his body, heavy and warm, slipping away to sleep.

The movie they’re watching is long forgotten to his brain, unable to concentrate as he listens to the soft snores of his boyfriend become more laboured as he falls deeper. Dan brings his hands to his hair to rake through his inky black fringe that’s gone back to flopping in his eyes.   
  
Phil grunts, a little noise of acknowledgment, and Dan smiles. The room is warm and it smells like cheese and pizza crusts, and maybe Phil is hurting him a little with the elbow that’s now digging against his tummy that feels a little sensitive after their indulgence, but Dan can’t find himself to care too much.   
  
He’s tired; with an almost sleepless night and a long day, it’s all catching up on him, yet he knows if he falls asleep here, they’ll end up having a night on a sofa, and without their spritely youth helping them no more, he knows if he wakes up on this very couch tomorrow morning, his neck and back will be killing him for it, the same going for Phil too.   
  
He caresses Phil’s hair still, little strokes that tangle up the short strands through his thick fingers as he grabs for his phone that’s left beside him.   
  
He opens up the camera roll, holding it at an arm's length, thankful for the stretch he has working in his advantage, and presses his thumb quickly to the button and it snaps the photo. It’s not great, it’s blurry and half of Phil’s face is covered from where it’s smooshed into Dan’s chest - but Dan likes it.   
  
He keeps it in his camera roll, only for him. He won't risk texting it over to Phil. He’ll just show him when he wakes so he can experience Phil’s grumpy tired face in real life, whilst he laughs.   
  
He lets the tv play, background noise as he scrolls through his phone. He quickly gets bored as time begins to drag further into the night. He supposes he could wake Phil now, but he makes a cute noise, rubs his nose against Dan’s shirt (which now has a wet patch from the little spill of drool from his lips) and Dan decides that maybe he’s enjoying this too much to end it now.   
  
He instead, opens his safari and goes to his bookmarked page.   
  
The insomniacs page opens on his screen and... it’s empty.    
  
Of course it’s empty - it’s hardly late, and it feels like cheating coming to the page when he isn’t really having problems sleeping; he’s simply putting it off because he’s too lazy to get up.   
  
He scrolls through the last chats, a few names are new and a few he recognises, Otter makes a few appearances, rambling on about their essay and Dan snorts a laugh, a breeze that passes through Phil’s hair like a ghost. He doesn’t stir.   
  
danisnotasleep: it’s only half eleven i feel like i’m breaking the rules by being on here so early

There’s no reply for a while. 

He finds himself browsing the forum that’s been updated titled:  _ weird dreams. _

He’s reading one that was submitted a few days ago about being trapped in a kitchen whilst a bear tried to get into their house, when his phone pings and he’s brought back to the chat.

oliveronline: danny!!!

Dan blinks at the message.

oliveronline: i was hoping you’d come back :D

Dan’s stomach twists, regardless of the grease feast that sits inside there.

There’s only a small chance it’s a fan. Only a sliver of a chance, and still, it wouldn’t be so bad if it were. He doesn’t share private information, his chats are never saved and he’s never once submitted anything to the forums. He hasn’t got anything to lose here apart from the fact he might have to log out forever and lose a few weird online friends - but still.   
  
Oliver could just be… a nice guy.   
  
danisnotasleep: currently trying not to fall asleep into a food coma

He waits for a reply.

oliveronline: dominos?   
  
His breath catches momentarily before he remembers to breathe again. Lots of people have dominos, he thinks. It’s not an exclusive Dan and Phil thing. Just a very popular pizza brand.

danisnotasleep: of course. only the best lol

oliveronline: maximum dips?

Dan exits out briefly, anxiety and too much pushing curiosity whirring inside his brain as he opens up tumblr and goes to the search bar.

He types in his own name and awaits the results. If Phil were awake, he’d snatch his phone off him and lecture him with the same hashed out speech how self-googling was a terrible idea, and normally Dan would agree, but right now he needs to know if his little bubble of self preserved internet persona he has on his chat room has been popped.   
  
The search results show an array of art, he scrolls down, past a few fanfics, some self-insert, a few edits, and text post, an array of gifs.    
  
He goes to most recent.

It’s the same there. He calms himself.

He exits out, sick of his own face lighting up his phone and goes back to the chat room. There’s three messages already.

oliveronline: gotta get that garlic dip it’s the best

oliveronline: bbq is good too tbh

Maybe they’re just a normal person. Someone seeking a friend. Someone like him. 

danisnotasleep: what are u doing awake rn

It doesn’t take long for them to respond.

oliveronline: idk. bored lmao

oliveronline: i just thought it’d been cool to meet other people on here

oliveronline: a lot of diff people from diff places yknow

Dan bites his lip, looking down at Phil before back at his screen.

danisnotasleep: haha yh i get that

danisnotasleep: being an insomniac is a pretty good way to talk to the other half of the world

oliveronline: haha yeah i guess so

oliveronline: crazy that ppl from across the globe will talk to u in a small chat room rather than school or smth

Dan feels his heart squeeze. So maybe he feels bad. Maybe he remembers being in school and being lonely and sad. Maybe this Oliver just wants a friend. Dan doesn’t think that he could be that friend that he’s looking for, but it doesn’t give him the pass to be a dick about it. Sometimes people want someone to talk to, and Dan can do that.

danisnotasleep: ur in school?

There’s a pause, and Dan thinks maybe he should be cautious with asking questions, but before he can wander too far, there’s a reply popping up.

oliveronline: hah yeh im in the last year though :p

Dan remembers being eighteen, how much of it had sucked immensely. So maybe he can help this poor guy out.

danisnotasleep: any more weird cliff dreams?

oliveronline: haha nah

oliveronline: i had a dream i met a celebrity last night 

oliveronline: what does that mean haha

Dan doesn’t really know. He’s had a fair few celeb meeting dreams, and usually they end up the same: something weird and sexual that leaves him waking up feeling a tinge of guilt as well as horny, but at least he has Phil beside him to help with those when he’d wake.

But he’s not about to tell a stranger on the internet that.

danisnotasleep: idk what celeb was it

oliveronline: daniel

oliveronline: radcliffe :P

The first message sends a swoop in his stomach. Maybe he is on edge as well as tired.

danisnotasleep: too much harry potter? lmao

He doesn’t focus on his name typed out beside this strangers name. His fingers itch to head to twitter and search his own name again. He needs to, but his phone vibrates again and his eyes are flickering to the new message.

oliveronline: who do u dream about? any hot boys in particular danny boy???;)

Dan closes the app with a jab of his thumb, returning his screen to the black void that is his lock screen.

He stares at his phone for a moment, before he sets it down on the sofa beside him. He doesn’t want to lay like this anymore, so he shakes Phil’s shoulder.

“Hey,” Dan whispers loudly once Phil begins to stir, “wake up.”

Poor disoriented, sleepy Phil pulls himself up off Dan, and he almost instantly misses his warmth.

He hates the suggestive tone that Oliver had sent that message. Maybe he was being a tad dramatic, but he’s spent so long building up the fourth wall in this community he’s grown with over the years on the internet, and knowing that maybe one of them as broke down that first brick, it scares him that once they start clawing, they’ll forget to stop.

“Come on,” Dan says, hoping Phil is too tired to notice how shaky his voice is. “Lets go to bed.”

He pulls him down the hall towards their room where Phil trails behind, chuckling quietly at the humour of it all.

But Dan feels like his heart is about to burst out of his chest and everything is too loud. Too scary and too closed in.

He needs Phil to make him feel safe right now.

He pulls him into bed, and kisses him once they fall on top of each other. Phil lets out a surprised squeak, laughing against Dan’s lips before he gets into it, and kisses him back.

They peel away their clothes, throwing them onto the floor without care, and as the cool air hits his skin, Dan feels exposed. 

He needs to know that he’s safe here; he knows he is, but he needs a visual reminder.

That’s how Dan ends up blowing Phil, with gentle hands tight in his curls, and a hand between his own legs as they get off together.

It’s messy and sloppy and rushed but the wave of euphoria that washes over him alongside his orgasm is enough to make him feel safe again.

When Dan crawls back up the bed, Phil’s gotten out to grab a wet cloth for the mess they had created together. 

He lays on their bed, starfished out and naked as he catches his breath.

Phil comes back quickly, with a wet rag and Dan’s phone.

He’s quick to plug it into the wall once Phil hands it to him, and he’s prepared to ignore it until morning.

“What was that for anyways?” Phil asks with a smirk as he crawls into bed. He smells like soap and he’s still naked as he rubs a leg alongside Dan’s, their leg hair tickles against one another.

Dan lets the used rag land on the floor with a wet slap. He’ll pick it up in the morning.

“What?” Dan says in a breath, “I’m now allowed to blow my boyfriend when I want?”

Phil looks at him before his face beams, settling against his pillow.

“You’re stupid, you know that,” he says, pulling Dan down to lay beside him.

Dan goes, getting under the covers and pulling it to his chin. He feels weirdly scared still.

“I think one of our subscribers found my chat room user,” he blurts.

Phil knows about the page and the few people he talks to anonymously over it; he’s never had an issue with it, never really pressed too much, and right now his face is neutral and Dan wishes he could maybe express his emotions a little clearer.

“Well, that’s okay,” Phil simply says, reaching under to find Dan’s hand.

Dan bumps his knee with his. “I like my chat room. It’s just gonna be full of subscribers now.”

“It’ll be okay,” Phil says, his eyes shut as he flings an arm loosely around Dans waist.

Dan chews down hard on his lip. “It’s not like… I’ve never said anything on there.”

He says it out loud, mainly because he needs that clarity. He knows Phil knows he’d never publicly put anything up on the internet that involved them both; anonymous or not.

He just needs to remind Phil that he’s still standing in the same place they decided to land themselves when it came to publicity online.

Phil shuffles forwards and gives him a squeeze, plants a kiss on his nose. 

“I know,” he mumbles sleepily.

Before Dan can ponder too much on the though, Phil’s sleeping, and with the body pressed so close to him so tight and warm, Dan soon follows after.

*

The next day Dan focuses on the rest of his packing. It’s mostly done, but he sits himself down and folds and re-folds the same few tee’s and jeans he has packed away.

Phil comes in half way through the day to remind him about lunch, and it’s only then that he listens to the grumble that growls in his stomach, and he stands on achy knees and heads to the kitchen to go find something salvageable for lunch.

They play mario kart on the sofa with sandwiches balanced between them, before Phil decides he needs to give the apartment a quick clean up - one last tidy up before they leave for the week and Dan does the dishes, listening out to the sounds of his boyfriend pottering about, humming different tunes to different songs as the come and go from his head.

Dan smiles, as he finishes loading the dishwasher; today had been the good kind of busy. A busy day that had pulled them away from their phones for the day, where Dan’s had been left alone on the arm of the sofa, untouched for hours.

He doesn’t have the bubble of anxiety brewing in his chest right now. As he listens to Phil connect the speaker to his phone from the living room, an upbeat pop song that had been circling the radio for weeks now, and Phil trying desperately trying to reach the same notes, Dan can’t help but laugh, and know that this right here is the safe space.

He shuts the dishwasher up and heads out the kitchen, following the cat-like screeching coming from Phil, and when he enters the kitchen, he’s oblivious of his presence in the doorway, happily belting out the lyrics as he runs the polishing rag over the coffee table, bent over and down just enough to give Dan the perfect view of his ass.

Dan manages to sneak up on him, giving it a playful slap when Phil’s singing is cut short and he gives a yelp as he spins around, arming himself with the rag.

“Nice singing,” Dan says, giving him a sly smirk.

Phil whacks his arm with the rag and pulls his face into a childish rag.

“You scared me.”

Dan laughs, before wrapping his arms around Phil’s middle and pulling them closer.

Phil’s expression melts. “You’re distracting me,” he tells him softly, his voice quiet against the music that still plays.

“That’s the point,” Dan tells him, and he goes in for a kiss, eyes fluttering shut before he feels the rag in Phil’s hand swipe him across the nose and he leaps back with a splutter.

“Eugh!” He scrunches his face up at the smell of furniture polish and dust. Phil laughs childishly.

Dan flips him off, before his phone buzzes in his pocket. He grabs it out of his jeans as Phil goes back to his cleaning, happily giggling to himself still.

He holds his phone in his hand and looks down at the screen. There’s a notification from his email account. He taps at it and it opens. It’s from the insomniacs page. 

He frowns. Staring at the email before properly reading it.

“Hey,” he says to Phil as he continues to read.

“Hey, Phil, someone tried to hack into my fucking forum account.”

He looks up and Phil is looking at him with a confused look about him, cleaning supplies still in his hand.

“Change your password?” He suggests, just as Dan is already following the link that suggests him to do so.

He’s not sure why someone would want to hack him. There’s nothing incriminating on that account; just a bunch of old chat logs about not being able to sleep.

He supposes that somebody that may know of his online presence would hope for something a bit more; something a bit more telling, like a sex dream or something.

He changes his password to something long and complicated, and gives a short breath of air when he gets the second email to confirm it.

He looks up again and Phil is watching him carefully. 

“All good?” He asks, and Dan realises the song has changed.

“Yeah,” he nods. His mouth feels dry and his stomach feels weirdly tight for some reason. “All good.”

He gets back to cleaning, slipping his phone in his pocket again in an attempt to visually forget about it as Living Room plays out around the flat, listening to Phil humming along in the next room over.

*

They have a plane to catch tomorrow. They’re supposed to be up early to make sure they make it to the airport on time, but Dan is wide awake. He feels a concoction of emotions swirl up inside him. It ranges from anxiety to excitement to a bit of sickness.

He feels it all brew up inside him to the point that he feels the longer he lays here in bed beside a sleeping Phil, he may boil over, so he does what he does best, and creeps out of bed quietly to head to his sanctuary on the computer.

Except it’s starting to fall further and further away from feeling like a sanctuary and more like an anxiety trap.

When he logs on, he’s relieved to see Otter, and only Otter online.

sleepyotter: history exam is kicking my aaaasss

Dan types out a message, his keyboard loud and annoying.

danisnotasleep: anxiety doing a good number on me tonight

He holds his breath as he watches Otter type back.

sleepyotter: aw no! what’s up?

He chews the inside of his cheek. The flat feels too quiet and weird without his music to fill the gaps in between the night time, but they’re upstairs and he’s not going to bother grabbing them now.

Instead, quick fingers dust over his keyboard.

danisnotasleep: im not afraid of planes but i guess sometimes my brain likes to remind me of that final destination 5 scene whenever i have to get on one

It’s only half of the truth, but theres only so much he can tell Otter without giving away who he was and what he does for a living, and his friend here is not worth losing over him being paranoid.

sleepyotter: ah! that movie gave me nightmares long enough i think i lost a years worth of sleep D:

sleepyotter: but i hope that doesn’t happen to you. if you start having visions of devon sawa then u better get off the plane!

Dan does actually emit a huff of air out of his nostrils at that. He types back quickly as fear starts to dissolve.

danisnotasleep: having visions of devon sawa wouldn’t be a terrible thing really

danisnotasleep: espec if he’s in his eminem outfit lmao

sleepyotter: lol! is it a long flight then?

Dan chews at his lip again. There’s no real danger in telling Otter how far he’s going; a couple of hours isn’t going to be much use to anyone. And besides, he trusts Otter to just be someone online to chat aimlessly with no repercussions.

danisnotasleep: not really only like an hour really

sleepyotter: that’s not too bad then! hopefully you wont explode!

Dan laughs quietly again. 

danisnotasleep: fingers crossed.

Otter has to go sometime after that. They wish him safe travels and hope he has fun wherever it may be he’s going. Dan wishes them luck on their history exam and they reply back with crying face emojis before logging off.

There isn’t much need for Dan to stay online after that. He’s about to turn off the computer and head back to bed to at least try and get some sleep, but then there’s another ping coming from the chat room and he’s spinning back round to quickly read it.

His stomach flips when he see’s who it is.

oliveronline: dan???

Dan looks at it, he could easily ignore it; it’d be quick to close out of the tab with a simple click and let the screen fall asleep as he does the same in his own bed, but the typing bar comes up and Dan finds himself watching, waiting.

oliveronline: are you ignoring me??

oliveronline: haha

oliveronline: srsly if i upset u the other day pls dont be mad

Dan feels his stomach twist in knots. He can’t help but feel sorry for him, knowing that all too familiar horrid sensation of feeling like someone was mad at you and not being sure what the reason for it was.

  
His hands hover over the keyboard and he lets out a sigh.   
  
danisnotasleep: hey! not mad at you! dw just been super busy lol

It’s light and easy and he hopes it’s enough to get this poor kid to stop beating himself up over essentially nothing; just Dan and his paranoia for personal space.

  
Oliver starts typing back, fast before he sends over his reply.

oliveronline: i tried messaging u earlier. idk if it worked i think u have to accept me first.

Dan swallows hard - he doesn’t accept anyone on here, not even Otter. He doesn’t need to since he only uses the chat room. He feels stuck suddenly, between being nice to this person and maybe distancing himself for his own mental health.

oliveronline: can u accept me pls?????

It’s then that Dan does receive a request from Oliver’s profile in a little pop up. He exits out of it rather quickly.

danisnotasleep: i dont usually accept ppl i dont know! sozzles!

He’s trying to play it off as funny and nice, but really he just wants to go to bed now.

Oliver doesn’t reply for a bit and Dan hopes maybe he’s just left it, but another part of him does the thing where he overthinks and he worries about being too harsh.   
  
But boundaries, he reminds himself. He has to set boundaries for himself; online and in real life with no matter who.   
  
But Oliver is typing, and it doesn’t take him long to stop and hit send, and when he does, it feels like all the blood has fallen out of his body.

oliveronline: but we’re not strangers. 

Dan is sat, staring at the screen, he feels like his entire body has gone cold and he suddenly feels weirdly exposed out here in the darkness of his living room, like someone might be able to peer in and watch him. The thought runs goosebumps up his skin with each hair reaching off his body like they themselves were trying to escape.

Then, Oliver is typing again. Dan is glued to his seat, as if he couldn’t even get up if he wanted to. He so desperately wants to.

oliveronline: i know you. accept me pls so i can private mssg u now

oliveronline: i need to speak with you

Dan still hasn’t moved. His hand grabs the mouse again and he goes to click away. A quick message comes up.

oliveronline: don’t exit 

He clicks off the tab before he can read anymore.

His heart kicks in his chest and he’s sat in his chair alone in the dark. He feels exposed all around and the hairs on the back of his neck prickle at his skin.

He hears the very faint sound of traffic come from outside, a few car horns that sound so distant.

He breaths in slow and deep. When he stands his legs feel weak and shaky and he feels faint.

He makes his way back to his room, each step feels like a step closer to sanctuary and when he sees Phil in their bed through the crack in the door, he could weep.

He’s feeling strange and weird all over and when he crawls into bed he’s quick to press himself up against Phil where he feels warm and safe.

Phil of course, stirs before waking, twisting himself to face him.

“Cuddle me,” Dan tells him in a quiet voice; he feels small and scared and he’ll have to discuss everything with Phil in the morning but right now he feels like a silly kid that’s watched one too many scary movies and scared himself.

Phil doesn’t have to ask, and turns around to press his chest against Dan’s back, their legs tuck up around one another and a kiss is pressed to the back of his neck.

“Love you,” Phil mumbles against his skin and it’s apparent he must fall asleep fairly fast from how his breathing evens out and tickles against him.

Dan doesn’t care, and instead he presses himself impossibly tight as he can to Phil, and usually he’d made a joke about pressing his ass to Phil’s crotch like this, but he holds Phil’s arm that’s slung over and doesn’t plan on letting go.

He does his best to fall into a somewhat peaceful sleep.

*

They’re up early to catch their flight. Phil is tired and Dan is feeling on edge still.

They almost think they’ve lost their passports but they end up finding them in the bathroom where Phil had weirdly left them.

When Dan laughs at him he has an airy feeling in his chest.

Phil kicks at him playfully and Dan pretends to grab at his leg.

“Fight me,” Dan quips with a smile.

Phil doesn’t, obviously, but walks over to brush a curl off his forehead.

“You’re sprightly this morning,” he mentions. “You okay after last night?”

Dan feels his stomach do a turn, like it does sometimes when you’re in a car and it goes over a speed bump father fast.

But he regains his posture and smiles still. 

“Just nerves,” he lies. “I’m excited about the house now.”

Phil’s smile is beaming.

“Me too,” he whispers excitedly.

Then, there’s a ringing sound from Phil’s phone and it’s their taxi.

They grab their things, and as Dan is pulling his suitcase down the stairs, watching Phil happily skip ahead to greet the driver, he can’t help but feel bad.

Realistically, he  _ is _ excited about the house. They’re potentially finding a home that they’ll have for holidays with their future family and eventually somewhere they can retire to.

But the messages from last night are still buzzing around in his head, squashing down his excitement by a mile.

They cram themselves in the car with their bags.

The driver sets off and Phil is double checking their paperwork when Dan’s phone buzzes.

It’s a text from a number unknown.

_ need to speak to you. _

_ see you there. _

Dan’s heart clenches tight in his chest as he reads over the words.

“Phil,” he speaks, clearing his throat to stop is sounding so shaky.

He looks up and Phil is smiling at him.

“Did the owners of the house text you at all?”

Phil frowns, as if thinking, “What like, today?”

Dan nods, gripping his phone tight.

“No,” he shakes his head, his hair flops a little. “They’re on holiday right? So I doubt they’ll be keeping up with us today.”

His chest grows tighter like the air is being vacuumed out of him.

He hides it well though.

“So they won’t be there today?”

Phil laughs softly, like Dan may be silly for asking the same question twice, but he needs to know.

He needs to be sure.

“No,” Phil says gently, like he must sense something is off. “Just us.”

Dan forces a smile on his face that feels tight and painful.

“Good,” he whispers mainly because he’s not sure he can conjure anything stronger from himself.

Phil says nothing but his hand comes over Dan’s and stays there for a little while.

It’s a small gesture but it brings a much greater comfort.

And Phil doesn’t let go.

*

They get to the airport and check in straight away. Dan still has his phone tucked away in his back pocket where he’s planning on leaving it.

  
His head drifts off someplace else as they sit and wait to board. He chews on his thumb and doesn’t stop until he rips off a piece of his nail and winces at the pain he’s induced on himself.   
  
“Don’t do that,” Phil mumbles quietly from where he’s focused from his own phone. Dan takes a quick glance and he’s tapping away at some weird app.   
  
He looks at the window and watches the planes come and go.    
  
A weird sense of dread begins to stir inside of him.   
  
*   
  
The plane is a short journey, as it always is, and halfway between England and the isle, it begins to rain. The smudgy water runs over the window and the clouds outside turn to dark greys with the darkening sky. The old plane is pushed around in the sky for a few moments; a few moments of dread where Dan is gripping the side of his seat. Phil doesn’t hold his hand, but his leg presses up against his leg, and he doesn’t bother moving it even when the plane calms or when it eventually lands.

He feels jittery on the inside, and it exudes into outer energy as they walk through the small airport, catching Phil’s worrisome look every now and then.

Phil looks like he’s about to say something with the way his brow is creased and his mouth takes the shape of a little “o”, but the expression is gone and his mouth slaps shut when a small voice comes from behind them.

“Hi, sorry, I know you’re probably in a rush to go but I like, I really love your guys’ videos.”

And just like that, Phil’s face snaps into this perfect little face of calmness as he grins and smiles at her.

Dan, already feeling his body move into a second gear automatically, follows his lead, and smiles.

“Do you want a picture?” Phil asks.

The girl nods, and hands her phone out to Phil which already has the camera open and ready to go.

He’s not sure why, but it feels funny to him. It never has done before; either that or he’s just never paid much attention to it.

Like it’s rehearsed, Phil hands Dan the phone and Dan forces himself to chuckle and say:

“I have longer arms.”

The girl laughs and looks between them, and they pose for the selfie.

Dan’s thumb misses the button and Phil and the girl both laugh, but eventually Dan gets it and snaps a few photos of them.

She’s handed back her phone and she’s still happily grinning ear to ear.

“Thank you so much!” She exclaim, her words come out in a rushed laugh.

Phil nods. “No worries!” Phil laughs back.

Dan just stands there and watches them both laugh for a moment until the girl waves and leaves.

Phil is hiking his backpack up over his shoulder again as Dan watches the girl bustle away, typing away furiously at her phone.

His stomach flips again.

“Come on, our cars probably waiting for us,” Phil says softly as he bumps their shoulders together, and they’re moving again.

*

He makes himself carsick by reading far too many tweets in the back of the taxi.

He’s scrolling endlessly through twitter, his own name bold and large.

The girl who’s posted the photo has confirmed where the are. She doesn’t say anything else and someone asks if they were with family and she replies with a no.

“They’re alone on a cute getaway to the sea,” someone jokes.

He eventually closes the app when he feels too sick to read anymore, and rests his head on the window and watches the little towns and fields blur past him.

*

The house is beautiful. The sky is grey and it’s drizzling with rain but it doesn’t seem to dampen Phil’s mood at all.

In fact, the ways Phil bounds across the house like a puppy, inspecting each room with words of praise and excitement, manages to lift Dan’s mood a little.

The house is kinda perfect, and Dan desperately wants this to be a place they can call theirs someday, so he wanders each room after Phil has tornado’d through them all, and admires it’s sweet beauty.

There’s even a cute little Harry Potter under the stairs type of cupboard that catches Dan’s eye.

Phil already has his phone out, snapping pictures.

“Sending them to mum,” Phil says without looking up from where he’s texting.

Dan huffs a laugh through his nose.

“You like it then, huh?”

His voice is teasing and playful, and Phil catches on pretty quick when his arms flop down and he’s giving Dan a look that’s desperate to hide his smirk but not quite working.

“Maybe.” Phil says trying not to laugh. “Maybe it’s the perfect place to get away from  _ you.” _

Dan laughs with a hand over his chest, feigning hurt.

Phil snorts a laugh, clearly buzzing from all this happy good house energy.

Dan loves it. He can feel it too almost.

“Come check out the shower with me,” Phil says as he crosses the room to take Dan by the hands, and swings their arms side to side innocently.

Dan laughs again.

“Really?” He says, an eyebrow quirks up.

Phil mirrors his image. “It’ll be fun?” He tries.

Dan can’t resist. Sex in a new house sounds fun and it’s what he’s in need of.

“Come on then you big dog,” Dan leans into him, making Phil stumble back.

“Lets go check out the shower.”

*

One steamy make out session and two handjobs later and Dan is feeling rather boneless.

He feels like all his worries have been washed away and down the drain of the shower he stands in.

Phil had gotten out, leaving him in here to give his hair another shampoo.

They’d only so far managed to unpack their bathroom necessities whilst they’d fumbled their way to the bathroom, but right now Dan didn’t care.

They had a whole week to enjoy themselves at a pace they felt like fit.

He tilts his head under the hot spray, just as soapy suds manage to slip down his face and into his eyes, he mutters a curse under his breath.

“Ow, fuck,” he rubs at his eyes though it’s no use.

He opens one and it bursts with a sharp sting.

He quickly dips back under the water for comfort.

He’s rubbing at his eyes again, doing the best he can, when suddenly he hears a tap against the window.

He pays no attention to it at first; his main priority being his poor burning eyes, but he blinks them open again, relieved to find he can in fact see without the added pain, when there’s another tap.

He spins around so fast he almost falls on the slippery floor.

He catches himself by holding out an arm and steadies himself as he goes still and listens.

Tap, tap, tap.

Dan’s not stupid. He’s not a stupid movie character that wants to go investigate, or take a closer look. He doesn’t even bother turning the shower off as his flight responses kick in and he’s hauling ass out of the shower and slipping on the tile before he grabs the sink and launches himself at the door and swings it open.

He’s only two feet out of the bathroom when he slips again on his own feet and flies forward. He doesn’t even scream, only a small gasp catches in his throat as he reaches out to grab the ground, but it doesn’t come.

Instead, he’s colliding with a body that’s now warm and as wet as he is.

“Jesus, Dan!” Phil exclaims like the air had been knocked out of him. It probably had been.

Phil has hold of him still and pulls him up from where they’d almost fallen.

Phil looks at him.

He’s naked still. Not that it matters.

“What’s wrong?” Phil asks.

Dan swallows thickly, and as soon as the words form in his brain, he quickly feels like a fool.

“There was-“ he starts, though he never finishes his sentence.

“You’re a lunatic,” Phil tells him with a stern look, though it lacks any real conviction with how he smiles still.

“Something scary in the shower with you?” Phil asks and before Dan can answer, he realises he’s clearly joking around.

“A spider? A ghost? The inevitable looming fear of death?”

Dan swallows thickly, his eyes scan over Phil’s face that’s slowly beginning to falter from the cheeky grin he’d had before, into something a bit more concerned.

“A noise,” Dan speaks once he can find his breath. “On the window. Scared the shit out of me.”

Phil’s still and silent for a moment until he’s giving a soft laugh. His hands are still squeezing at his naked biceps.

“Big baby,” Phil teases him as he lets go. “Get a towel on you hot dog. Philly isn’t going to fall for your sex trap number two.”

And before Dan can even argue, Phil is already walking away with a chuckle, leaving Dan to stand naked and wet in the hallway.

He shivers before heading back to the bathroom to grab his towel.

*

Night falls over the house, and soon enough Dan is going to each little room to switch on the lights. Phil frowns at him and tells him they don’t need the kitchen light on when they aren’t using the room, something about wasting energy that Dan isn’t listening to because he’s trying to focus on making sure he can see every corner of the dark.

The text from earlier is still at the top of his messages, and every now and then Dan opens them up and looks at them, just to feel that swirly horrible feeling in the pit of his chest.

He’s staring at the number unknown when Phil comes from nowhere and makes him jump. He exits out of the texts to scold at him.

“Stop scaring me,” Dan frowns. His tone isn’t entirely serious, but perhaps if he relayed the situation to Phil, then maybe it would be.

But he isn’t, because he’s getting himself worked up over nothing.

No one is here. Oliver isn’t real and they’re fine.

Phil laughs at him, tongue trapped between his teeth when he reaches over and pulls on a curl on his head.

“Ow,” Dan squeaks, even though it doesn’t hurt, and they flop against the sofa together.

They need to make dinner or find something, but they end up growing sleepy on the couch together.

The views from earlier have now been blanketed in a velvety blue that makes it hard to really see anything outside of them.

The cliff side view they had has been reduced to an inky imagery with the sound of rough waves against the sea.

It’s comforting in a way, to still have the ocean moving back and forth still when it’s part of the world has already fallen asleep.

“What’s going on in here?” Phil’s voice breaks through his thoughts in a low whisper. He taps the side of Dan’s head with gentle fingertips before pulling them away.

Dan looks at him. He feels a million years old today.

“Worried,” He says.

Phil frowns. He had little indented creases between his brows now that Dan’s sure he’s the cause of. Phil laughs when he tells him this and just says that worrying about Dan is what keeps him on his toes. If they were both relatively easy people then he’d had nothing to worry about and nothing to actually try for.

Stupid project projection.

“Why?” Phil asks gently.

Dan sighs and looks out the window across the room. He still can’t see anything and he’s not sure if it’s more comforting than it is unsettling.

“Scared about things.”

Phil’s expression softens, like it’s clicking to him that Dan hadn’t been joking earlier, and it’s not as if Dan’s genuinely upset or mad about that, but it’s not like Phil doesn’t know that.

“Scared?” He asks. “Scared about what?”

Dan sighs again almost as if he’s trying to expel all the bad energy he has inside of him right now. He wishes it were that easy.

“It’s just-“

He’s cut off with the sharp sound of Phil’s phone ringing, blasting its cheesy iphone ringtone.

Phil’s face creates a small grin.

“Hold that thought,” he whispers and he presses a quick kiss to Dan’s nose before hopping up and heading towards the other room where his phone rings out.

Dan is left to listen to the sound of the distant ocean below them.

When Phil returns, Dan isn’t sure of how much time has really passed, but Phil has an arm on his neck, letting out a stifled yawn. It must be late, he thinks.

“Who was that?” Dan asks, eyes flickering from Phil to the purple phone in his hand.    
  
Phil’s smile is lopsided. “Oh, just the agency wanting to know we got here alright.”   
  
His voice is bubbly and sweet sounding, far too distant to the feeling Dan has swirling around him right now.   
  
He glances out at the window again. It’s definitely late.   
  
“Bit late, don’t you think?” Dan asks, voice steady as a rock. “Didn’t think they’d be open this time of night.”   
  
Phil gives a half laugh, clearly growing more tired now as he slips his phone into his pocket. He kicks at Dan’s outstretched foot; a classic telltale sign that it’s time to go to bed.   
  
“You know what they say,” Phil laughs as Dan pulls himself up off the sofa. “The island never sleeps.”   
  
Dan forces a laugh out and follows Phil to bed, ignoring the gut twisting anxiety he can feel from inside of him.   
  
*   
  
The bed is soft and the sheets are clean. But Dan can’t sleep. He can hear the sound of waves nearby and the whistling of the wind that’s somehow taunting him.

Phil is sleeping soundly beside him, as per usual, blissfully unaware of his partners muddled head that keeps him so awake.

He’s thinking about the texts on his phone, about Oliver and about the tapping on the window earlier.   
  
The mere thought of those things make his stomach roll in displeasure; he hates the idea of them all being connected, which is exactly why his brain enjoys torturing him with those thoughts at such a late hour.   
  
Phil rolls over with a happy little huff, and pulls the covers up over his shoulder snuggly.   
  
Dan’s finger itch. His phone is plugged into the wall beside him, and he’s desperate to just reach across and grab it.   
  
He knows he won’t be able to stop himself if he does, and any ideas that the internet will be some safe haven for his scary, weird thoughts, are really dubbed as pointless. But it doesn’t stop him from grabbing at the phone. 

With a press of his thumb his screen comes to life and he’s quick to swipe down at the brightness before he blinds himself.

He tries to distract himself on social media, but once he’s opened up twitter with a jab of this thumb, he’s greeted with the same roll of news earlier on; discussions about where he could be, who he’s with and what he’s doing, and it’s all he needs to exit out the app, hold down for a while and delete it.

Twitter will be banned for the week, he decides.   
  
He’s found himself on a binge of instagram stories, unable to click away as the next one appears on his screen, when he’s suddenly interrupted by a text that pops up in the middle.   
_  
round at 4 _

He blinks at it. That’s all that it says. Nothing before and nothing after.  
  
He checks the time on his phone. It’s a little over half three already, and his stomach is doing that funny twisty thing again.  
  
His palms get sweaty rather quickly, and he swallows the thick lump that’s formed in his throat, until it sits in his chest in an uncomfortable manner.  
  
The text is from the same number as earlier and he can feel the blood rush out of his head and drain from his body.  
  
His hand hovers over Phil’s shoulder before he stops himself.  
  
He doesn’t wake Phil. He puts his hand back under the covers where it feels safe and warm.

He lays back down with his head against the pillow and takes a deep breath. It comes out shaky and scared sounding, so he takes a few more breaths to steady himself; it doesn’t entirely work.

His phone is balanced on his belly and he lets his eyes shut. He’s not feeling anywhere near tired, but he decides maybe he could trick his brain into thinking he was, just so he could fall asleep for what little hours he has left of the night.

He does eventually begin to drift into a sleep. 

He’s confronted with images behind his eyes of darkness and the sound of running footsteps. The dream is smudged and blurry and nothing is really making much sense but he can feel his own heartbeat in his chest, and where it pounds hard against his ribs.

There’s a door and a knock. Dan takes a step back and it echoes throughout the void he’s found himself in.

Another knock, and then laughter.

It’s a voice he doesn’t recognise, but it sends chills down his spine with the intensity, and he wakes with a jolt.

He sits up with his hand clutched over his chest where his palm tries to sooth the rapid thudding of his poor heart.

He takes another few breaths and checks the time on his phone thats slid off his legs now.

Ten to four.

He blinks, closing his eyes for a second before he realises how dry his mouth is in comparison to how sweaty he feels.

He climbs out of bed on shaky feet and navigates his way through the strange house until he finds the kitchen, flipping each light switch as he goes to ensue he can see what’s in front of him.

He makes himself a glass of water, and once it’s gulped down it doesn’t take long for the pressing of his bladder to get him moving towards the bathroom.

He leaves the door open as he shuffles towards the toilet, feeling truly sleepy now.

He’s about to make a grab for the toilet seat when he hears a faint tapping sound.

His heart catches immediately in his throat as he goes still, unmoving like a gazelle caught in the open Serengeti like easy prey.

He strains his ear, only able to listen out for the faint waves and wind before it happens again.

Tap, tap, tap.

Dan isn’t sure why, but he takes a glance over his shoulder to look at the window where the noise comes from.

He catches it, just seconds before it’d be too late, and a hand ducks down out of the window frame, shadowy and blurred from the frosted glass.

His blood runs ice cold and his body feels frozen and stuck.

He’s staring at the window still, unable to tear his eyes away as if his brain is in disbelief, but he continues to watch.

The hand nor the tapping come back and Dan is sure he’s dreamt it for a moment. He waits, unsure of what for, maybe anything, but nothing comes.

He doesn’t even pee but instead turns and leaves the bathroom, running back to the bedroom where he sees the bed in sight and launches himself onto it with a heavy thud.

Phil of course is startled awake.

He sits up fast and confused and gives Dan a bleary look of uncertainty.

“What the hell are you doing?”

His voice is slurred with sleep and Dan realises that he doesn’t even have room to really feel bad for Phil right now, when his whole body is preoccupied with the fear and anxiety he has inside of him right now.

“There’s a person outside,” Dan tells him in a quiet voice as he rips back the covers and flies under them like they might protect him. He squished himself up as tight as he can to Phil.

Phil is sat up grabbing for his glasses now, with a crease of worry between his brows.

He smacks his lips together like he’s removing the moisture there as she shuffles up on his butt.

All of a sudden there’s a crack of thunder above the, rumbling loudly, and rain brings to pour.

Phil pays no mind to it, and instead look at Dan with his confused expression still plastered across his sleepy soft face.

“Someone’s  _ outside?” _ Phil asks, voice cusping on disbelief. Dan is quick to nod to him that yes, someone is in fact outside.

Phil pauses for a moment, as if he’s trying to get his brain to catch up with him, and he opens his mouth to speak but is cut off with another crack of thunder as well as the sound of knuckles on wood.

The pair of them stay deadly still.

The thunder passes for a moment and all that can be heard is the rain, and the blood pumping around in Dan’s head.

He’s trying to figure out what to say or do, ask Phil if he also heard the very faint sound of a knock at the door when suddenly, barely loud enough above the pouring rain, he hears it again.

A strong knock on the door.

Phil is checking the time. It’s just turned four.

He looks at Dan before he peels back the covers. Dan wants to say something, to maybe stop him, but the words catch in this throat like a hooked fish, and he can only watch Phil’s shadowy figure as it creeps out the room.

He finally finds his voice as Phil slips out of the room and joins the shadows that swallow him up.

“Phil!” he whispers harshly, but it’s no use. Phil either doesn’t hear his scared voice over the sound of hammering rain, or he’s simply ignoring him.

Either way, Dan has no other choice, feeling far too exposed and alone in this room now, and rips the covers off his own legs and is following Phil with quick steps.

He gets to the hall and squints to see Phil stood by the door.

Phil looks back at Dan, no words spoken, yet a whole conversation held as the look at each other, barely able to see through the dark as they stand and wait.

The rain is coming down so hard it sounds like it could break through the roof and flood them. The thought of it sends a shiver up Dan’s spine, little hairs prickling.

Another second passes, when suddenly, there’s another heavy knock at the door, so hard is almost rattles the wood. 

Phil takes a leap back, clearly startled as Dan stands frozen to the floor.

It knocks again, but this time, there’s a voice behind it.

“Hey!”

The voice is female, drowned out by the rain and far away sounding. The knock comes again.

“Hello?”

Phil glances over his shoulder at Dan; no words yet spoken yet it feels like they’ve held a whole conversation.

Dan’s eyes flicker to the door then back to Phil. Phil gives him one last worrisome look before turning back to the door.

He watches him take a ginger step forward, dressed in his pyjamas and socks that are drained of all colour in the desaturated hallway, before he holds an arm out to the doorknob.

He grips it tightly and Dan feels his blood freeze inside his veins like ice, as he takes a slow step back. His heart it thumping and pounding and he’s sure he’s going to break a fucking rib at this point, as Phil twists the door handle and he yanks it open.

The rain roads loudly, the wind almost takes Phil off his feet and there stood in the dark is a small figure.

Dan takes a small step forward, curiously burns over him in the moment as he peers to take a closer look.

“Hi!” The voice calls again, and takes a step forward. Under the moonlight, Dan can see her better now. 

There stands an older woman, maybe someone around his own mothers age, smaller than they are, wrapped up in a dark raincoat as the rain pours over her, water dripping off her face.

“Hello,” Phil speaks. He sounds unsure, and he still has his hand on the door, knuckles turning white with his grip.

The lady smiles. “I didn’t mean to scare you boys, being the middle of the night and all.” She lets out a laugh that seems too loud over the rain.

Dan swallows thickly.

“I’m just two houses down from here,” she carries on, before peering her head back and nodding towards where Dan supposes the house is.

“Not to far from here,” she tells them.

Dan and Phil say nothing, still staring at her. She doesn’t seem to care much. Or notice.

“I was doing my late night walks,” she says to Phil, looking at him now. “When I noticed your box has blown over.”

Dan frowns, wondering what she means by that - as well as why the hell someone would be out walking at four in the morning. 

“I picked up as much mail as I could before it blew away,” she tells Phil with a nod before reaching into her coat pockets. She pulls out a lump of something soggy and mushy looking.

It’s the mail.

She slaps it into Phil’s hands.

“I know you ain’t the owners or nothing, but I thought it’d be best to collect it before the sea got hold of it.”

She looks at Dan and laughs. A cackle, almost.

Dan laughs back rather weakly.

“Anyways,” she smiles, rocking back on her feet. “I best be off.”

Phil looks up from the mail in his hands to the woman.

“Is it a good idea to be walking in such a terrible storm?” He asks gently.

Of course, Phil and his big heart, Dan thinks. He can’t help but feel concerned for people, even when they are fucking strange and creepy.

The woman laughs again. Her voice carries over the rain, making Dan feel unsettled. She’s as loud as the storm.

“Don’t mind me dear,” she smiles, reaching out to touch Phil’s arm. Phil tenses up for a moment before he relaxes.

The woman looks to Dan, and the moon shines on her face that gives him a better view of her than he had before. She has a gummy smile and deep set eyes.

“When I can’t sleep, I just go places,” she tells him. “You know how it is, don’t you dear?”

Dan feels his chest squeeze and he stumbles backwards. He feels like he might be sick. He can hear Phil’s distant voice grow further and further away as he makes his way to the bathroom.

He faintly hears the front door shut just as he makes it to the toilet, grabbing the seat with a firm grip and retching into the bowl.

He near about screams when he feels a hand on his back, whipping around only to see it’s Phil, obviously.

Phil is looking at him, eyes glimmering with worry. His hand is still on his back when Dan tries to stand back up.

“Dan, what on Earth is going on with you?” He asks as he grips at Dan’s shoulders as if to steady him. It only half works at the world sways beneath them.

Dan looks at him, and tries to get the words out, opening and closing his mouth like a fish.

Then, a phone rings.

Phil’s cheery ringtone sounds out, floating in from the bathroom. Phil gives Dan’s arms a little squeeze before letting go and giving him a look.

He turns and leaves and Dan follows close behind. 

When Dan gets to the bedroom, Phil is already stood by the bed, head down looking at his phone with a frown.

“That’s weird,” Phil mumbles quietly. Dan instantly takes a dislike to his tone.

“What?” He says weakly.

Phil says nothing, but jabs his screen with his thumb and holds his phone to his ear, he looks at Dan with a furrowed brow.

“Hello?”

There’s silence, the rain is nothing but background noise now.

Dan keeps his eyes on Phil who’s blinking confusingly.

“Hello?” Phil says again.

He looks to Dan before pulling his phone away and pressing the loud speaker, holding it between them to hear.

There’s a rushing noise, muffled by the speakers, and just so faintly, Dan is sure he can hear the sound of breathing.

Phil must hear it too, because his face drops and the colour runs from his skin and he’s fumbling to hang up the phone. He throws it to the bed like it’s red hot and stumbles backwards.

“What the fuck was that?” Dan asks, voice cracking, feeling more hot tears burn behind his eyes.

Phil takes a shaky breath, running his hand through his hair.

“I have no fucking clue,” Phil whispers. “That was horrible though.”

Dan nods, the phone is still laying on the bed, they’re both staring at it like it might grow legs and move.

“I’m gonna check the doors locked,” Phil says quickly. Dan nods in agreement.

“I’ll come with you.”

They make they’re way back to the hall. Dan’s heart is thumping in his chest still. Blood pumps through his body and his brain feels like it’s been fried. He can hear the ringing in his earswhere his body is working overtime with all the fear and adrenaline is pulling through him.

Phil gets to the door and is checking the locks, a few times over, when Dan steps on something wet.

He looks down, and it’s one of the letters from the mail the woman had brought over. Phil must have dropped it on his way to the bathroom.

Dan peels the soggy paper off the floor, and holds it up. The corner stars the tear from the weight of the water, and as Dan flips it around, his head plummets.

Dan hears the final click of the lock, when Phil asks.

“Dan, what’s wrong?”

Dan is staring down that the soggy envelope, with the smudged ink across the front, bleeding from the rain.

“Dan?” Phil asks again, walking towards him.

Dan feels his heart float back into his chest again before he can speak.

“It's,” He starts, already feeling like he wants to cry. He looks up to Phil.

“It’s addressed to  _ us.” _

There on the envelope, in blue ink that’s washed over the paper, almost illegible, is the words: 

_ “To Dan and Phil.” _

Dan hears Phil’s sharp gasp.

Dan’s fingers run over the paper that’s beginning to break. 

“Should I open it?” Dan asks him.

The rain is so distant now.

“I-I dunno,” Phil says quietly. His hand is on Dan’s shoulder now, a tight vice like grip on him.

Dan opens it anyway, his fingers shaking and his heart kicking hard. If he hasn’t got a broken rib yet, then he’d be surprised if they weren’t bruised by now.

The envelope tears easily and the paper is safe inside, folded over a few times.

Dan lets the remains of the envelope fall to the floor with a wet smack, as he unfolds the letter.

Written in red ink, Dan begins to read it out.

“Dear Dan and Phil,” he starts. He clears his throat and takes in a deep breath before continuing.

“Welcome to the Isle of Man. I know you have been here before. I know that Phil’s parents are habitants of this place. I know that you are wanting to buy a place here.”

Dan looks to Phil, who shoots him a worried look. He’s not sure how anyone would know about that. He carries on, regardless of the feeling in his stomach.

“I know Dan, that sometimes you cannot sleep. I know the feeling. I know what it’s like. I know what it’s like to be you. I know you. I watch you and I laugh at you and I cry for you. I think of you and dream about you and I think Dan… I think that I am in love with you.”

“Holy  _ fuck,” _ Phil’s voice cuts him off. Dan looks to him where he has both hands on his head.

“That’s… that’s fucking weird, Dan. Holy shit.”

Dan has no words. He swallows again, and looks back at the paper.

“I am deeply, and madly in love with you Dan. I empathise with you and I understand your pain. I am so alone in this world, but you are there with me. You told me you dreamt of a stage where you had been silenced,” Dan pauses as his stomach churns, his voice wobbles before he continues.

“You told me you had nightmares, and so do I. We are so alike, you and I. We are born and destined for one another. It’s me and you in this world now. Nobody else.”

Dan pauses when he gets to the next bit as a half sob escapes him. If he hadn’t already thrown up earlier, he’s sure he’d do it again now.

Phil squeezes his shoulder for him to continue.

Dan forces himself to keep reading under the low light.

“We can’t have Phil anymore. You don’t need him. He doesn’t stay awake with you during your nightmares. He doesn’t listen to your worries when you told him about me. All he wants is your body. I’ve heard it Dan. I’ve seen it Dan. He is nothing to you. He didn’t care for you like I do.”

Dan can hear Phil’s quick, frightened breaths beside him.

“We need to make sure it is just us. We can have this home together, Dan. Me and you forever. You said to stalk him until you love him, and that’s exactly what I’ll do. Kill the root. Run to the cliffs with me. I will take you. Dispose of the body and love me instead.”

The writing is scribbled and frantic towards the end, and Dan can practically hear the rushed words and ramblings that came when writing this all down.

“I was too shy to come out and see you,” the ends reads. 

“I was too scared to show myself and say hello. So I got my mother to come by and pass you this letter. I hope you don’t mind. She is a sweet lady. I will hear you read this letter, and once it is over, I will have plucked up the courage to come out and say hello.”

“Dan…” Phil says in a wobbly voice, holding onto him like he might fall over.

Dan looks at the last part of the letter.

His heart grips tight in his chest.

“Please do not be afraid or scared. It is just me, your old friend, Olivier.”

The rain seems to stop, the storm up ahead vanishes like it never existed, and all Dan can hear is the own whoosh of blood in his head and the sound of rolling waves that offer him no comfort anymore.

Dan holds the paper so tight it crumples at the sides.

He doesn’t want to be near this thing anymore, so he lets it go and it floats to the floor.

“Dan,” Phil says again. Dan looks at him to see the tears in his eyes. He looks petrified.

“I think we should call the police. Call our agents and get out of here,” Phil tells him. “I don’t think it’s safe here anymore.”

Dan blinks back tears before regaining his posture and putting a hand on Phil’s shoulder, glad to have him near enough to touch him, making him feel that teeny bit more grounded.

“Yeah,” he breathes. “Let’s just fucking go.”

Their bags are already packed from where they’d left them, and their grab their phones off the side and gather everything they can find in the dark with shaky hands and rushed feet.

Phil calls for a cab back to the airport whilst Dan calls the police.

He explains what he can to them, and informs them that they’re heading back to the airport. The lady over the phone tells him in a calm voice that they’ll be over soon, and to just sit tight for a little while. She asks if they’ve locked the doors and Dan tells her, in a shaky breath, that yes, they’ve locked the doors and they should be okay.

She tells him next to make sure they can get out if needed.

Dan and Phil wait for the police to arrive, and it feels like sweet relief when the room they’ve barricaded themselves into suddenly lights up with blues and whites, and they’re grabbing their bags and stumbling out.

Dan shoves the letter into the officers hands as he falls out the door. He tells them,

“This is your evidence.”

The police officer makes a face as he reads over it.

They take Dan and Phil’s numbers and inform them they’ll keep in touch if they believe this to be a serious case of stalking.

Dan’s phone still has the text messages from earlier stuck on his screen. He’s quick to delete them with trembling hands.

The taxi arrives and they say their goodbyes. They get inside, sheltered from the cold, and Dan is peering through the window, down at the cliffs and the water. Everything is an inky black void. Phil reaches across the seat to grab his hand. Dan grabs it back, and looks to him.

“We’ll be okay,” Phil whispers quietly. Dan can only hope it’s real.

*

They end up buying a morning ticket at the airport and waiting the few hours for the sun to rise before it’s time to leave the island.

They’re checked in and ready to go, and Dan swears it’s like a tidal wave of relief when he realises they’re going home. Somewhere safe.

They’re in the airport lounge waiting to board. Phil’s already made a few phone calls to his family and their agents just to give them the heads up.

Everyone wishes them a safe flight home, and Phil thanks them, with a heavy and tired sigh.

Dan looks out the window to where the planes come and go, up and down, when his phone, barely lasting now, buzzes in his pocket.

He picks it up, expecting it to be a text from the team or maybe his nana wishing him well. 

His heart fucking sinks when he sees the number on his screen.

There’s no text, just an image. It opens up and Dan feels his breath ripped from him as he stares down with bug eyes, unsure if what he’s seeing truly is real.

Phil must look over and see his face of terror, because there’s a hand on his knee and a concerned voice coming into focus around everything that is blurry.

“What is it?” Phil asks in a hushed voice.

Dan isn’t even sure the right words exist for something like this, and all he can do is hold up the phone, and show him the text that’s come though.

The image of what looks like a shot of them last night, stood in the hallway, hunched over the letter, coming from the perspective of what looks like the under stairs cupboard with the little air vent that makes it possible to see out of.

Phil’s face turns grey, and Dan feels like he could pass out as the ground beneath him, jolts suddenly, making his stomach swish and flip inside of him.

Neither of them say a word, before Dan’s phone pings again. His hand flinches, like he’s been shot, and the text pops up under the image.

_ ‘see you online :)’ _

**Author's Note:**

> come say hi on tumblr !! @watergator


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